


Coffee Date

by genderfluid_pigeon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, young au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genderfluid_pigeon/pseuds/genderfluid_pigeon
Summary: Charles sets up a date who never shows. Erik steps in.Imagine your otp:imagine that you’ve been stood up by your douche of a boyfriend on date night and the waitress keeps asking if you’re ready to order but you keep asking for more time hoping that he’s just late. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation but as you decide to just get up and leave, this boy you’ve never seen sits down explaining loudly “sorry i’m so late, babe, traffic is crazy right now.” and he quietly adds, “i’m Michael. just go with it, yeah? whoever didn’t bother to show up is a dick.” and so you do go with it because he’s being sweet and trying to save you (and plus he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen) and as you’re leaving the restaurant after the best non-planned date ever, he asks you out for real this time.





	Coffee Date

**Author's Note:**

> This might become more it might not but enjoy my first toe dip in the X-Men fandom! I love this ship dearly and I hope you all enjoy.

Charles walked in the cafe nervously. He normally didn’t do these types of things. He didn’t do dates, that was. See, normally he would holed up in some part of the library or another reading texts to pass his classes. Not that he  _ needed _ to per say but he  _ wanted _ to and that was enough for him. Classes always came easy to him, hence why he was able to double major like most did with a single major.

He fidgeted with his sweater a moment before he spied a nice looking table in the back. Walking towards it, he kept fidgeting with his passenger bag. The tan flap on it with the buckle occupied his hand while he sat down. After pulling out a book he checked his wristwatch, the leather wristband of which gleamed with the polishing he had done earlier on it. Yes, he had fifteen minutes before his date was scheduled to get here. He had timed his departure from his apartment perfectly. He smiled to himself in pride.

The cafe wasn’t crowded but a few people were inside and outside. A man roughly Charles’ age was the only patron who had looked up upon Charles’ entry. He had on a maroon sweater and earbuds dangled out of his ears. His eyes had flicked to Charles for barely a second before he looked back at his laptop in front of him.

Cracking his textbook open to reread the chapter due next week, Charles settled in for the ten minutes he planned on reading for before he would wait five minutes for his date. In reality he would be reading nothing and meditating.  Closing his eyes he let the hum of other minds comfort him for a moment.

Like a writer studying their characters, he relaxed his mental walls and his mind gently stretched out. The initial flood of thoughts as he skimmed across the minds of other within roughly of a block with him made him wince. Minds, generally speaking, had a range of loudness which was bearable but too many at once made him wince.

His textbook was laying flat on the table. He was “reading” it with his hands steepled beneath his chin. His eyes would still trace the pages like he was  _ actually _ reading but no words were being processed. If you looked closer his blue eyes would be glazed over but  _ appear _ focused enough that others didn’t question him, assuming he was busy.

He adjusted to the rush of the information easily. His mind wasn’t as stretched as it could be but close to a couple thousand minds was enough for him to get his practice. The information slid by him, like snowflakes in a blizzard and he was walking through it. Every now and then one would strike him in the face and he would notice it but for the most part the thoughts and minds were a background hum. He once compared it to a symphony of violins playing next door, the hum that was. Ignorable with training and effort but overwhelming if new and sudden.

Gently he began to, in a sense, shut out the minds one by one. By doing this he learned tiny bits and pieces about the people. Not enough to know them or start a meaningful conversation with them but small facts. One such fact he learned about a woman on the fourth floor of the build two down was late for her doctor’s appointment and a man walking down the street had burned his mouth on his coffee, little things. Most of them he forgot with the speed with which he blocked the mind out with.

Some people’s minds were naturally louder than other and some were quiet. He was used to, at the very least, the hum of other minds outside his own. Sometimes, he admitted it, he would read others’ mind to his advantage and sometimes, like when he was sick or had one of his horrid headaches, he would unintentionally do it. Very rarely did he lose control due to emotions but when he did it was something to be feared. He hadn’t done so in close to a decade.

As he neared the end of closing his mind back off and his free time ending, he sensed someone approach him. Forcing himself to look to the approaching person, he saw it was a waitress. While he needed to work on balancing he preferred to be home but this would work. He shoved his attention forward and “balanced” having his mind open and  _ not _ reading minds while paying attention to something else.

The pretty blonde girl smiled at him and said, “Here is your menu, would you like a few minutes or have you been here before and would like to go ahead and order?”

He shook his head “no” and answered, “This is my first time here. You see, I’m meeting my date here. Could I get another menu?”

She nodded and retrieved it, sitting the other menu on the other chair. He smiled at her as she walked away before allowing himself to focus back on his mind. He was on the cafe and surrounding areas now, so close to being done. Taking a deep breath he shut it all out at once and built his walls back up. Everything settled to a faint hum. He could feel it thrumming just outside his walls, waiting to be heard. In a sense he had moved away from the symphony into another house, another block down. He  _ knew _ it was there but ignored it.

Checking his wristwatch he noticed it was already five minutes after the time he had arranged to meet his date. He pondered the winter weather outside and decided that, yes, they could be delayed by it or the traffic. Sitting aside his book he pulled out his phone and decided to scroll through his social media to pass the time.

Ten minutes passed and he began to fidget. He couldn’t really focus on his social media anymore. Raven wasn’t here to assure him of anything or even to relieve his stress. He could feel his mind beginning to rebel. It wanted to reach out and receive comfort because it was experiencing too many emotions. He had begun to habitually check his watch. The waitress walked over again.

“Can I take your order? Or, maybe, some drinks for you?” She asked.

“Er, I will have a water, please. I’m going to hold off on ordering until my date gets here though,” Charles answered. He pointedly ignored her look of pity.

He didn’t understand it though. He had, admittedly, done a bit of snooping into the girl’s mind who had asked him out. Nothing  _ too _ severe or Raven would have murdered him on sight, just enough to brush her mind and see if she was telling the truth when she asked him on a date. She had been. So why hadn’t she shown up yet? He hoped it was something important. Checking his phone he saw no texts from Debra, which was her name.

Twenty minutes later and he was anxiously rubbing his hands on his glass. The ice allowed him to think properly. As the cold seeped into his hands he was able to focus on the real world instead of whatever world minds existed on. He was dangerously close to crying and looked properly upset.

The waitress looked at him and pointed to the menus in her hand and he shook his head. Charles was not a quitter. He was however incredibly upset. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from the table with the man who had made eye contact with him walking in.

* * *

 

Erik had seen tons of people in his life. Ugly people with beautiful personalities and beautiful people with ugly personalities. He was normally a pretty decent judge of character and of looks. That’s what he liked to think, at least. He frequented a small cafe in the city often and got to see many of these people. The waitstaff had his order memorized, they were nice people. A black coffee with a poppy seed muffin. They would sit ti at his left elbow every time he sat down now. 

Today he was listening to a recording of a lecture he had missed when someone walked in that drew his attention. His eyes flicked to the smaller man for a second. Brilliant baby blues met steely grey for a second. He was the one who broke the gaze when he went back to his lecture. There would be time for studying the other man later.

He, however, popped an earbud out. A man in  _ that _ nice of a sweater and pants with Oxfords on didn’t normally come here. Erik would know if he was regular, which he wasn’t, or if a student group had made a meeting here, which they hadn’t to his knowledge. So, that raised the question, what was Baby Blues doing here? He intended on finding out.

Pausing his lecture, he pulled up his notes document and went about fleshing them out, keeping half an ear out for Baby Blues’ conversation. Eventually, Erik was rewarded with the information that Baby Blue was on a date. So, why weren’t they here yet?

He could feel his sympathy grow as time passed and Baby Blues was left alone. Thirty minutes or so in and he felt his resolve crumble. He took a deep breath. This meant nothing and he had to recognize that now. He was just doing a kicked puppy a favor. He had no connection to him at all. 

He packed up his stuff and stood, walking over to the table. Sliding into the other chair, much to everyone’s shock, he smiled at Baby Blues.

“Sorry,” he said, consciously hiding his accent as much as possible, “I believe we got the times mixed up, you know how setting up dates online can be. I’m Erik and you’re?” 

He prayed that Baby Blues went with it. He could feel the pitying stares behind and around them become understanding.

* * *

 

Charles looked at the man, properly honestly looked. The messy brown hair indicated that he, Erik, spent a lot of time either not brushing it or running his hands through it. Steely yet kind silently begging, eyes looked at him from across the small table. He had a strong jawline that Charles helplessly traced with his eyes. Swallowing, he realized just how lucky he was in this instant.

“I’m Charles, we made our plans last night, remember?” he smiled at Erik.

“Nice to meet you, Charles.”

Erik’s smiles grew genuine and he sat down properly, holding out a hand to shake. Charles took it and marveled at the large strong hands he shook. These were opposed to his small palms with long slender fingers. 

Releasing Erik’s hand he nervously wiped his hands on his trousers. He hoped he didn’t mess this one up. He had a habit of doing just that sometimes.


End file.
